


Listening for Silence

by rainbowballz



Category: Victorious
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-07 22:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowballz/pseuds/rainbowballz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cat wants to chase her and thinks, oh, this is what it must have felt like. Except Jade is just around the corner; Cat had been planning to go to a place much harder to reach. ;Jade/Cat; TW: mentions of suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Listening for Silence_

**I**

Cat knows there's something seriously wrong with her when she comes home and her brother of all people, saddled on the arm of the couch with a game controller now slack in his palms, stares at her as if she has just sprouted a second head. She runs her fingers over the side of her neck just to make sure she hasn't.

Her parents help her unpack. It's only two weeks worth of clothes and it doesn't take the three of them long, but they linger anyway; her mother smoothing the same wrinkles out of a magenta tank-top over and over again with trembling fingers and her father sitting with an arm around Cat's shoulders on the edge of her bed, kissing her temple and murmuring into her red hair just how much he loves her. Cat's staring at her pink walls with relief because the white ones at the hospital were starting to blind her.

Eventually, reluctantly, her parents leave her alone. They insist she keep her door open and there's going to be mandatory hourly check-ups until they feel like she's 'stable'. Cat cringes at the word, staring at the floor instead of the orange pill bottle in her mother's fist that she can't have any access to without her parents' presence because she has a reputation now. Tendencies.

She had a roommate at the clinic, a girl so thin Cat was afraid to breathe too hard standing next to her, and with the constant circulation of doctors and nurses and therapists and visitors, she hadn't really been alone for two long weeks. Even using the bathroom was dictated by the buddy system; Cat had to stand outside of the door. She was listening for the sounds of her roommate retching the few nibbles she had been forced to consume. When Cat was in there, her roommate was listening for silence.

That's what Cat remembers most about it. It's fuzzy and kind of jumbled - the doctors said that was an effect of the pills - but she does recall the deafening quiet that swallowed her, warm and inviting. She imagines that's what peace must feel like. Nirvana.

Cat chews her lip as she changes into a pair of pajamas and slides under the covers. It feels strange after two weeks of crisp, cool hospital sheets, so she pulls her comforter up until her feet are left hanging out. The buffered breeze from her ceiling fan tickles them. A smile blooms across her face at the sensation, snaking her feet quickly back under the blankets and rolling on her side, tracing the curved lines of her lips with her thumb. She feels it melt away, then stares at the black sky outside of her window.

She refuses to go to sleep until she sees the tail of a shooting star streaming across the speckled night, but sleep sneaks up on her just as quietly as her near death had and when she blinks, she's gone.

The word 'overwhelmed' has been used almost a dozen times this morning - Cat knows, she's keeping track. She adds another tally as her mother drives her to school, turning the radio off when Cat tries to turn it up.

"If you get overwhelmed," she says, saying the word slowly and with emphasis, as if Cat couldn't keep up. "You just call me and I'll come get you, okay? I've already talked to your teachers so don't be afraid -"

"You told my teachers?" Cat stares at her mother's profile, the sunspot on her temple, the little smear of pink lipstick not entirely in line with her mouth. She tries to be mad at her, but the medication makes it hard for her to feel anything extremely. Mostly, she's numb, a kind of static sensation in her hands. She squeezes her fingers together in her lap.

"I wasn't going to lie," her mother replies, knuckles bleaching around the steering wheel. "Besides, you have nothing to be ashamed of, Caterina. They understand that you're going through a rough patch right now."

Ashamed. Understand. Cat sinks in her seat and watches a rainbow of cars blur across the window. It's always warm in California, but today it's particularly so; she can feel the leather of the passenger seat sweating on the backs of her thighs. Hollywood Arts too soon emerges over the concrete hills and Cat doesn't notice that she's gnawing on her thumb nail until her mother gently takes her wrist and pulls it away.

"You're going to be fine." Her mother doesn't sound confident, but she's giving Cat the best smile she can manage. Cat has known her mother to be a little fragile - growing up raising her brother does that to a person - but it's different when it's her she's worried about. "But if you get overwhelmed -"

"I know."

They pull into the parking lot. Cat peaks over the edge of the door and watches a parade of familiar faces pass by. She stares at each one for as long as she can, remembering their names, where they sit in class. The details seem so important now that this is her second chance and all.

"I love you, Kit. I love you so much."

Cat is staring at the school doors, silently watching them suck each student in, one by one. She thinks she sees Robbie's head of curls and instantly tenses, nails carving half moons into the seat's gray leather and she's holding her breath and counting just like the therapists told her to do and -

"Caterina? If you're too overwhelmed, I can take you home. We'll try again another day."

"No." She takes a deep breath. It catches in her throat and she tries to cover it by coughing into her fist. Spinning to face her mother, Cat flashes a smile at her. "I think I'll be okay. But I'll call you if I need to."

"Promise?" Her mother's brows are trembling and Cat has seen her cry too many times in the past two weeks, so she leans forward and plants a small kiss on her cheekbone to keep the tears at bay.

"Promise. Bye, Mom!" Cat pops the door handle and opens it with her foot, dropping down onto the pavement with her hands locked around the straps of her backpack. She bumps the door closed with her hip and gives her mom an enthusiastic wave before skipping toward the school's doors, just like she has every day she's gone here, just like before.

The noise is unbelievable. Cat staggers at the doors, reaching out for a locker as the thousands of sounds - footfalls and music and talking and laughing and voicesvoicesvoices - assault her eardrums. She has to resist slamming her palms over her ears to block it all out. Words like 'cope' and 'managing' reverberate in her mind.

Breathing. Breathing.

"Cat?"

Dizzily, she turns, one hand still on the side of the locker, blinking hard as if all the noise is somehow clouding her vision. "Robbie?"

His mouth is open. He doesn't have Rex with him which Cat is thankful for because the puppet has a record of not watching his mouth. Robbie's face struggles between concern and glee before he finally opens his arms and waves her forward. "Cat!"

She hesitates, twitches the corners of her mouth, and slowly falls against Robbie's chest. He squeezes her too hard but she doesn't say anything, listening to him say things with words like 'miss' and 'so glad'.

"Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh, Cat?"

Robbie pulls away and Cat has to hold his shirt to keep from sinking because everyone is suddenly so close, Tori and Beck and Andre and Sinjin and more, so many of them, crowding on all sides of her and dragging her into crushing hugs. She says something that makes them laugh but she can't catch her breath and she feels like she's a newborn baby being jostled into arms and eyes and no wonder they cry so much.

The word 'overwhelmed' is threatening to burn the back of her throat when there's a split in the crowd, a black shape forcing a gap in a wall of shoulders. Something ropes around her wrist and gives a quick yank and then she's out, gulping air, smelling something deeply sweet.

She remembers learning somewhere - science or anatomy or something - that one's sense of smell is the one most strongly tied to memory. Cat certainly has no doubts about that at the moment because Jade's face fills her corneas before she even has a chance to look up and see her. When she does, the black-haired girl is still holding her wrist and the thin lines of her eyebrows are dug menacingly over her nose. Her lips are set in a cruel line, but she's not scowling at Cat - she's glaring over her head, at the group of people, now silent, standing behind her.

"The hell is the matter with you guys?" Jade's voice is cold enough to ignite goosebumps across Cat's flesh. She releases the other girl's wrist and steps back, eyes still on the tightly knit crew. "Give her some room to breathe for Christ's sake."

It's then that her gaze shifts. The green orbs flick to capture Cat's and Cat doesn't hear anything but the quiet Jade's eyes provide. For a moment, Cat thinks she sees relief, cool and relaxed, but when Cat begins to smile in her direction it instantly solidifies. Jade's face stiffens and she cuts the look as soon as she initiated it.

Tori is the first to speak up, her voice puncturing the vacuum of silence. "Sorry," she says, hands clasping in front of her. She takes a tentative step forward. "We're sorry, Cat, we were just excited to see you and we're so glad you're okay."

Cat slowly tears her eyes away from Jade's frozen face to meet Tori's wide, sincere eyes, and she doesn't doubt for a minute that she truly was missed, but knowing it almost makes all of this worse. When Tori's eyes flick over her shoulder, Cat whirls to see Jade's retreating back, the curtain of her hair hitting her spine with each step. Her throat tightens, lips parting to say something, to yell for her, but the cheery clanging of the bell cuts her off. She only notices that her hand is outstretched when her chewed thumbnail creeps into her vision.

Cat wants to chase her and thinks, oh, this is what it must have felt like. Except Jade is just around the corner; Cat had been planning to go to a place much harder to reach.

"Do you want to walk with me to class?" Tori is at her side, grinning too wide. Cat can only nod, shifting her backpack and walking beside Tori up the school's stairs. She can feel questions humming in the air between them, questions Tori is afraid to ask and Cat doesn't want to answer, and they make her legs feel like they're encased in cement.

"Is she mad at me?"

Cat doesn't realize she's the one who has spoken until Tori touches her elbow, bringing her feet to a stop.

"Jade?"

Who else? Cat nods.

She sucks her lip between her teeth and checks the people brushing past her - one of them is Andre and he wiggles his fingers at them but doesn't stop. Cat's grateful and returns the gesture, albeit less energetically.

"We were all really upset. Not mad, never mad, Cat. We -" She frowns, unable to hold Cat's heavy eyes. "Jade didn't come to school for a few days and when she came back - and ever since - she's been a bit more tense than usual."

"So she's mad at me."

Tori shakes her head, touching her arm again, only to pull it back, like she's afraid to touch her for too long. "I don't, I don't know. I don't think so. She just, none of us really knew how to deal with it."

It. The incident. Her dark moments. No one can seem to put anything bluntly with her.

"This is her way, I guess. But, hey." Tori wraps an overly tender arm around her shoulders and gives her a small squeeze. "You're back now and everything's okay, right? Jade will be fine, I'm sure."

Cat keeps her eyes down as she's ushered into Sikowitz's room. She sits rigidly between Tori and Robbie, pinching the orange material of her skirt. Sikowitz, bless him, doesn't draw any more attention to Cat than there already is, jumping straight into the lesson.

Cat only twists to look back once to where Jade usually sits because looking again wouldn't do her any good.

She's not there.


	2. Chapter 2

II

She's not anywhere.

Cat searches for a bobbing head of black hair in the hallways, in other classrooms, even ducking into the janitor's closet, but there's no sign of her. She stops everyone whose name she remembers and asks if they saw her, if they know where she is, but all she receives is shaking heads and worried glances. Cat needs to talk to her - Jade is her best friend and they can't pretend it didn't happen like she can with Tori or Robbie or anyone else. But, most of all, Cat has never been able to harbor the weight of Jade's anger, and she knows without a doubt that she's mad.

"Cat."

She looks up, meeting Andre's simmering eyes across the lunch table. His brows are drawn together."What?"

"You're bleeding."

Cat blinks. Drawing her hand back, she stares at the crimson drop budding across her fingernail. She licks her lips and tastes blood. "Oh. Oops."

"Here." Andre stretches his arm across and offers Cat a napkin, which she takes and wraps around the bitten finger. "You should be more careful."

Cat has heard that a lot lately. Pressing hard on her finger, she looks dejectedly into her limp, vaguely brown salad before pushing it away with her free hand. She straightens her back and peaks over the tips of her friends' heads. Cat's watching for a passing rain cloud but the courtyard is blinding yellow with sun.

She shares her next class with Jade. It can't be possible for her to ditch the entire day - can it? Surely she'd get in trouble for it. Cat twists her lips together, remembering that Jade really doesn't care about getting in trouble, and when she's mad, she'd push the limits.

The anatomy classroom is as she remembers it; cold, white, sterile. It's the least colorful room in all of Hollywood Arts, and by far the least fun. Science has never been her strong suit and it's only because of Jade helping her study on lazy Sunday afternoons before a big test that she is even passing at all. Mr. Yun, a short man with crescent shaped glasses, stares pointedly at Cat as she makes her way to the fifth desk in the first row - her seat - and frowns at the one behind her - Jade's.

Most of her teachers today have been a little more reserved than usual, like they're afraid they might spook her. None of them had said anything to her directly, though they all looked like they wanted to. Mr. Yun has words in his mouth, Cat knows it, and he's about to round his desk and make his way toward her when Cat's tornado spins into the room.

Jade catches him by the arm, making him jump. Cat jumps, too, straight to her feet, gripping the edge of her desk with one hand. Emerald irises slide toward her, a slipping glance, before she leans close to Mr. Yun and mumbles something Cat is too far away to hear. Mr. Yun shakes his head and makes an exasperated face at her. When Jade presses, he raises his voice:

"No. I don't care what play you have to practice for. Just because this is an art school does not mean we pitch academics out the window!"

The bell rings. Cat is still standing, watching a tight muscle flicker in Jade's cheek. She pivots on her heel and marches straight - toward Cat, her mouth opening and a hand outstretching to reach for her, to say something, but Jade only gives her a sparing look before sliding hard into the seat behind her.

"If everyone would get their homework out from yesterday - except for Cat, of course, you can just listen for today - we'll grade that first ..."

Slowly, Cat lowers herself to her seat. She can feel Jade behind her like an anchor, making it hard not to hunch on her desk. Once again her finger becomes victim to her nibbling teeth as she stares anxiously at the clock. The large hand trudges tortuously slowly and every minute of it has Cat that much closer to spinning around and screaming at Jade right in her face.

Talk to me! Look at me! I'm sorry!

When Mr. Yun releases the class to work on the study guide, she hears Jade rustling behind her. Cat whirls around so fast her neck cracks but she has to tilt it up to watch Jade stand.

"Jade." Cat, somehow, manages to speak. The other girl hesitates briefly, the toe of her boot catching on the floor. Jade smoothly fixes her stance and keeps her eyes straight ahead. When she says nothing, Cat continues, "Jade, please, don't be mad at me."

Surprise ripples across Jade's face so quickly Cat might have missed it had she blinked. Finally, those startling green eyes drag down toward her, a flicker of worry sputtering in her irises like a flame trying to stay lit in a windstorm. "I'm not mad," she says, voice hardly a whisper. A frown drips from the corner of her lips and Cat stands, wants to wipe it away, but Jade slides her feet back and wedges space between them. "I don't know what I am, but I'm not mad. I just can't -" She breathes, looks away, shakes her head. "Not now, okay?" Jade's teeth pluck at her lip and then she's turning, leaving, gone.

Cat wants to go home. As she walks numbly from the classroom, she thinks about calling her mother, knowing that she would be here in all of five minutes to take her out of here and back to the calm safety of her room, more medication to keep her grounded.

But Jade said not now. She didn't say not today.

"Are you sure?"

It's the twelfth time her mother has asked her that in the span of five minutes - an impressive record, no doubt. Cat barely resists the urge to sigh. "Yes, Mom. I'm going to hang out with some friends. I missed them!"

There's a hesitant silence on the other end and Cat knows her mother is gnawing at her nails, a nervous habit that apparently runs in the family. "I just don't know if that's such a good idea so soon. I don't want you to overwhelm yourself -"

"I'm not overwhelmed." It's mostly a lie because she feels like she's drowning, but her head is still above the water. For now. "Please, Mom. I need to see my friends."

Her mother sighs. "I guess, honey, but you better be home by dinner time because if you fall off schedule with this medication there could be some serious repercussions."

Serious repercussions. Cat's eyes close. Through clenched teeth, she manages, "'Kay 'kay."

After sliding her phone into the side pocket of her backpack, Cat turns to watch the flooding double doors of the school once again. Kids are still spilling out, dashing toward a long line of buses that rumble and smoke like yellow dragons. Cat is standing on the curb holding her skirt down with one hand as a billowing breeze teases her legs. She sees Andre come out, followed closely by Tori, and Cat jumps behind a pillar to avoid being seen. Maybe sometime soon she actually can hang out with them like she used to, but they're not mad at her - and maybe Jade isn't either, but she is something that they're not and she's her best friend and she has to fix this. It's all her fault.

The students begin to thin. Cat turns toward the parking lot, scanning the cars that still remain until she finds Jade's, so black it looks blue under the sunlight. Cat has ridden in it hundreds of times. She knows the smell, the purr of the engine, the way Jade turns her hand upside down to turn. She's walking toward it before she can think to stop herself, placing the flat of her palm gently on the hot outside as if she were being reunited with an old friend. "Hey," she whispers, smiling faintly. She turns and leans her back against it, heat burning the small of her back and her thighs but she doesn't move, relishing in the subtle smoldering of pain because that means she's still here.

At some point Cat's head tilts back and her eyes close and she doesn't know how long she stands there nearly dozing before she hears thudding footsteps come to a scraping stop. Cat's eyes snap open and tilt down and there she is, her backpack on one shoulder and her keys gripped tightly in the opposite hand.

"I said not now." Jade swallow. She rounds the car to the driver's side, the car giving a high beep as the doors unlock.

"Jade, please. Let me talk to you."

Jade pops the door open and curls her hand over the window, face down. "What's there to say?"

Cat's mouth closes. She doesn't know. She's never been good at stringing words together, at making things that seem reasonable to her make sense to others. Every doctor she had met at the hospital had all given her the same confused crook of their brows every time she tried to explain it. Maybe her words would clarify little for Jade but that doesn't make her want to say them any less. "I don't know. But I don't like this." Cat gestures between them with her hand. "Like ... like there's a wall."

Jade lifts her head but doesn't look at Cat, green eyes instead focused on the road that leads out of Hollywood Arts. A sigh deflates her chest. "Where's your ride?"

"I told my mom not to come get me."

"Why?"

"I said I was hanging out with friends."

"I can't hang out with you right now."

"Why?" Cat's voice comes out more as a whimper than she intended. Jade looks at her sharply, shoulders tensing up. She looks almost scared, a tightness around her eyes that Cat's never seen before manifesting before the other girl has a chance to subdue the reaction.

"Look, I just ..." Jade drifts, hands slapping against her thighs. "I'll take you home. But that's it. That's all I can do right now."

Cat's throat is threatening to close, so she just nods and opens the door, slowly slipping in. The car is baking inside and Jade immediately cranks on the air conditioning as soon as the vehicle rumbles to life. Cat smiles again, stroking the door fondly. I missed you, she tells the car, but not out loud, because people already worried enough about her mental state as it is.

The silence that settles between them is awkward and Cat hates it because it was never like this before. When they were together, Cat was always chattering and Jade would say something snarky and funny and they would laugh and spontaneously burst into songs from musicals they've been obsessed with since they were little kids and it was a comforting kind of loud. Now it feels dead, a monitor with a flat line, and Cat doesn't know how to resuscitate. Jade's face is stone as she drives and Cat tries not to stare at the girl's profile but instead at the blurring sidewalks and stoplights and people and dogs and sky and all the things her doctors told her she would have missed out on had her attempt been more than that. But her attention always manages to shift back to the girl beside her because she would have missed out on her the most.

Somewhere between Wilkinson Avenue and Right Street Cat can't bear listening to the quiet in the car and she says, "I'm sorry," and she watches Jade's fingers tighten around the steering wheel and blink a couple of times but she doesn't say a word, not until they're parked in Cat's driveway. Jade leaves the car running and Cat releases her seatbelt and twists to face her, to repeat herself, but she doesn't get to finish her second apology because Jade is leaning across the seat, taking Cat's face in her hands, and -

Silence. Different from the kind she experienced after swallowing her father's entire bottle of painkillers. Different from the kind that had wedged itself between Jade and Cat all day. It's not eerie, it's not uncomfortable.

It's warm and it's nice because Jade is kissing her.

Jade's lips are bold, strong, opening for a gasp of a breath before closing on Cat's once more. Cat doesn't have lungs, or a brain, or anything but a drum solo in her chest, rattling her ribs when her lips part and Jade's tongue melts into her mouth. It's fireworks, it's the crescendo, it's a shooting star scarring the night sky, but when Cat's fingertips graze Jade's jaw to draw her closer, deeper, it's water dousing a flame. Jade is gone, the silence shattered by shaking breaths by both parties, and when Cat opens her eyes Jade is shaking against the driver's side door.

"Cat," Jade says, the first time she's said her name since before, and Cat tries to answer but nothing comes out of her open mouth. She doesn't get the chance.

"Caterina!"

Blearily, Cat turns. Her mother is on the other side of the door, ripping it open and taking her shoulder.

"Inside. Now."

"Mom -"

"Inside." The woman stares across at Jade. "My little girl is very fragile, Jade. She can't handle this."

Jade is staring into her lap. Cat reaches for her but her mother drags her out, pushing her toward the house. Cat has to be held by the elbows when Jade backs out and drives away.


End file.
